Face the Strange
by Solo Lady
Summary: AU after A2A series 2. Follows my stories "Aftershock" & "Repercussions." In 1983, Gene Hunt is mourning the loss of someone he loves. In early 2008, Alex Drake is examining Sam Tyler's story of visiting the past. And Arthur Layton is a ticking time bomb.
1. Herald

Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and chosen my stories and me for Favorites. This is the start of the last story in the trilogy that started with "Aftershock" and continued in "Repercussions." Since this story will refer to events in those stories, folks might want to read those first. This trilogy is AU, totally diverging from _Ashes to Ashes _series three. I hope it's enjoyed.

Face the Strange

Chapter 1

Herald

The first time she had the dream, she was nine years old. Just before her tenth birthday. Until that dream, she'd never really been afraid of the dark. The dream changed that – a little.

_She could feel the air turn cold as she walked further into the dark. Someone was behind her. A rough hand was on her shoulder, pushing her forward. Terrified, she kept walking, trying not to stumble. Something was pressed to her back, and she knew it was a gun. _

_Cold. She was so cold. But the icy feeling came from inside. The man was going to shoot her. She thought about her mother. Any minute now her mum would be there to help her._

_She could see a little now. And in the dim light, she saw someone. A man wearing a black coat stood there. Suddenly she knew she'd be all right. And even though she was still a little scared, she also felt safe._

_The man behind her stopped and jerked her back a step. He must have seen the other man, too. The grip on her shoulder relaxed. Pulling away, she ran back the way they'd come in, knowing her mum would be there waiting for her. Behind her, there was a gunshot. She kept running for the light, not looking back._

TBC...


	2. A Rough Go

Author's note: Many thanks again to all who read, review, encourage and add my stories and me to Favorite and Alert lists.

All things _Ashes to Ashes_ are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.

Face the Strange

Chapter 2

A Rough Go

The detectives of Fenchurch East were spending another Friday evening at Luigi's. They were gathered around one big table, laughing and eating and drinking and congratulating themselves on wrapping up an armed robbery case. Everyone was enjoying the party. However, there was one man present who seemed a little quieter than usual. He finished off a plate of spag bol and a glass of red wine, then poured another glass and nursed that one the rest of the evening. And long before the rest were ready to call it a night, the man who used to close Luigi's every night, said his farewells and left.

Ray Carling watched his governor walk out of the restaurant, noting that Chris Skelton was watching, too.

"Whaddaya reckon?" Ray asked, nodding toward the door.

"I reckon he misses her," Chris answered.

"Yeah, but…" Ray frowned, struggling for the right words and not finding them. "It's the other things that I don't get."

Shaz Skelton, returning from the ladies', took her chair next to Chris. "What don't you get?" she asked Ray.

"The Guv," he replied.

"He misses Alex," Shaz said flatly.

"I know that. It's other things."

"Such as?"

Ray took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "This," he proclaimed, placing the pack on the table. "He stopped smoking. Quit the fags. Yells at me if I light up at my desk."

"Not just you," Chris said. "Everyone."

"And he's cut back on the drinking," added Shaz.

Ray nodded. "Right. Seems like if he was really missing her, he'd drink more. I mean, yeah, he's kinda quiet and all, so it looks like he's gone all soft without her around. The smoking's one thing, but the drinking?"

"Yeah. It's been a week and he's not even changed the name on the door to his office." Shaz sighed. "It's like he doesn't want to admit that she's gone." She looked at her husband for confirmation, but Chris seemed preoccupied with other thoughts. Shaz knew that expression. "What is it, Baby?" she asked.

Chris shrugged, then leaned forward. "Do you think you were right, Ray? About where Drake has gone?"

"What?" Ray chuckled. "To join the Spooks? I was joking!"

"Think about it. She did say on her first day here that she did some work with the CIA."

The three friends exchanged looks. "That's right," Shaz said slowly. "She did. I thought she was having us on. But maybe she wasn't. Maybe she _is_ working with MI-5 now. The Guv did say that the transfer papers were marked 'Classified.'"

If the Skeltons thought that Ray would shoot down that theory, they were wrong. Instead the sergeant took a drink of wine and lit a cigarette. "There's somethin' I haven't told you," he began. "Something that – well, surprised me. Or maybe I should say it shocked me."

"What?" Chris and Shaz asked together.

"Last Sunday morning," Ray said softly, "I went out to get the papers, and I swear I saw the Guv jogging."

"You're jokin'!" Chris exclaimed.

Ray shook his head and sighed. "I wish I was."

Shaz smiled. "That's it then, isn't it?"

Her husband looked at her in confusion. "That's what?"

"The Guv's trying to get in shape."

"Why?"

"Don't you see? If Alex _has_ gone to MI-5, maybe the Guv is trying to join, too."

Ray and Chris frowned at her. "You really think so?" Chris asked.

Shaz drained the last of her fizzy water. "Makes as much sense as anything," she concluded. "No smoking, less drinking, and more exercising. We know how he feels about her. If that's what he has to do to be with her again, that could be the answer."

Chris shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day Gene Hunt would change his ways for anyone, especially a woman. But for Alex Drake?" He smiled at his wife. The woman who had led him to change his own ways. "Yeah, I can see that."

Even Ray nodded agreement as he stubbed out his cigarette. He thought of Teresa, the woman he'd recently started dating. "And me," he said. "I reckon if that's what he wants to do, I hope Drake appreciates it."

##########

Gene Hunt paused outside the door of Luigi's. A week ago, he'd have dug into his pocket for his cigarettes. But smoking was now a thing of the past. He still wanted the cigarettes, but he wanted something else a lot more.

Gene wanted to live to be 100. Or at least 75. And the fags would get him if he kept smoking. So that was done. It was still a rough go, but he was winning the battle – as long as he could keep his team from filling the outer room with smoke.

He was aware that his actions were being scrutinized by the other detectives. After all, their hard-drinking, hard-living governor was acting in a way that was peculiar, to say the least. No smoking, hardly drinking, and – probably strangest of all - exercising. There were days when Gene himself wondered what the hell he was doing. But then he'd look at the portrait of Molly, Alex's daughter. And he knew why he was changing his ways.

During the past months, he'd gone from total skeptic to believer. Alex's insane story of being from the future had finally won him over – after a few dreams of Sam. Dreams that told Gene that he had to let Alex go. So he did just that. He told Alex that she could leave, even though it broke his heart – and hers.

While Gene knew it was a possibility that Alex would leave, her disappearance had thrown him, especially since almost everything she'd owned vanished with her. Only two things remained: the portrait of Molly he'd commissioned and the gold necklace and anchor pendant he'd given to Alex for Christmas. The picture he kept at his flat. The necklace stayed in his pocket. A talisman.

Gene could only assume that Alex had returned home – to the future. So now he was a man on a mission. To live long enough to see her again. The woman he loved. To that end, Gene was doing everything within reason to make sure he got to 2008.

A week ago. Was it only a week ago that she'd left him? Why did it feel so much longer?

Looking around, Gene could see no one familiar on the street. He went around to the back of the building and let himself in, avoiding anyone who would know him. The last thing we wanted was for someone to see him heading for Alex's flat. The team really would consider him pathetic. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.

The scent of Alex's perfume still lingered in the vacant flat. Or was it his imagination? Gene wasn't sure. He made his way to the living room and turned on a lamp.

He had avoided the place all week, every night tamping down the urge to go there. Although they had spent nearly as much time at his flat, it was Alex's home that drew him. It was there that he felt her presence most, even if her possessions had vanished. Wandering from room to room, the memories threatened to overwhelm him. For Gene, his Bolly was still there. Still sitting on the sofa, watching an old movie with him. Still cooking Sunday dinner, more often than not burning her finger and swearing a blue streak. Still gazing at him with hooded, smoky eyes as she loosened his tie and undid his belt. Still lying naked in the bed with him, reaching for him, arching her back and crying out in ecstasy, and sharing with him the kind of passion he'd never known with any other woman.

How was he to get through the coming years without her?

_I want you to make a life for yourself. If you find someone you can love, I want you to be with her. Marry her. Have kids. Make a life for yourself_. _You deserve to be happy, Gene!_

Alex's last words to him. He'd assured her that he would be happy. Was he lying? He really didn't know. Gene was only sure that he would miss her every day and every night. Whether at work or at Luigi's or at home. Alex was a part of him. Would there come a time he didn't glance around, looking for her?

The practical part of Gene's mind told him that he had to start living in the present. To accept his loss and get on with his life. But his heart, the heart she'd made beat again, was having trouble letting go, especially for twenty-five years.

What was it Sam said in that dream? _You ever think about the future, Gene? And how much faith it takes to get there? Every step we take is a step into the future. Every minute we live is a moment in the future. And it goes faster than we can fathom. You know how it is. One day you're in 1983. The next, you're in 2008. And you're not even sure how you got there! But it takes faith. _

But Gene wasn't so sure about that, either the idea of time passing quickly or if he truly had the faith he'd need.

Right now he just wanted to stay close to the memories. Taking off his jacket, tie, and boots, he turned off the light and lay down on the sofa and let the scent of her perfume wrap around him. The future could start tomorrow.

##########

Down on the street, DC Ben Owen watched the windows of Alex Drake's flat. Superintendent Dennis Wilkins has told him that the woman had been transferred to parts unknown and that Gene Hunt was once again DCI. And Little Lord Denny was right angry about both bits of news. Wilkins had felt bested by Hunt and his tart, especially since Denny had lost a position of authority at Fenchurch East and been assigned to desk work at Central. Sometimes Owen worried about Wilkins. The man seemed obsessed with seeing Hunt disgraced and out of the Met. He'd even had Owen follow Hunt for a while, hoping to find something that would do the trick. Of course Hunt had spotted Owen. Wilkins had been forced to back off on his quest.

It was only by chance that Owen saw Hunt that night. Owen had been on his way to his girlfriend's flat near Fenchurch East when he spied Hunt going into the building where Drake had lived. On a hunch, Owen stayed a bit and saw the light go on in the flat. Several minutes later, it was switched off. He waited another five minutes. Hunt did not exit the building.

Smiling, Owen went on his way. So Hunt was staying at Drake's place. Poor sod must be missing her something terrible. Maybe Wilkins needed to hear about that.

TBC


	3. A Man of His Word

**Author's note: Many thanks to all who have read and to all who have reviewed and listed for Favorites and Alerts. This chapter took a while because, well, I was about to get off track. But I think it turned out all right, even if it's a bit short. Still, I hope you enjoy.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 3**

**A Man of His Word**

_There was a smell of snow in the air. Gene took a deep breath, filling his lungs. The sky was grey. So were the buildings of the city. So was the river. Yet, to him, it was all beautiful. Or maybe he just felt that way because of the company._

_Alex walked beside him, her hand in his. Every now and then, she would rest her head on his shoulder or kiss his cheek. Sometimes they would stop and kiss and he didn't care who saw them. Because this was the way it was supposed to be. He and Bolly were meant to be here together._

_Molly was on his other side. She took Gene's free hand, gripping it tightly. He looked down at her, smiling. The young girl grinned back at him._

_Then Molly abruptly released his hand. Running ahead, she looked back over her shoulder. "Come on!" she called. He thought that Alex would stay put at his side. But she followed her daughter, leaving Gene alone. They didn't call for him to join them. Yet he could hear them talking to each other._

"_Isn't he coming, Mum?" Molly asked._

"_You know it's harder for him, sweetheart," Alex replied. "It takes him longer."_

_Molly nodded. "Yeah. He does move slow."_

_They turned their backs to him and continued on. Gene tried to keep up, but he seemed incapable of going any faster. His knees and feet hurt. Everything hurt. He paused a minute, trying to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white and turned._

_An old man stared back at him. His own reflection in the window of a building. And the white was his hair._

Gene opened his eyes. The first rays of sunrise were coming through the window of Alex's flat. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa, but sometime during the night he'd made his way to the bedroom. Now he lay on cool white sheets, wishing that he could reach out to find Alex lying next to him, welcoming his touch.

Rolling over onto his back, Gene stared at the ceiling and thought about his dream. An old man. He was going to be an old man in 2008. And despite his assurances to Alex that he would be there waiting for her and they would be together, he worried about that. She said that she would want to be with him. But he'd be twice her age. And no matter what he did now to stay in shape and make it to the 21st century, Gene would never be the man she deserved. He wouldn't even be the man she knew. Sure, there were couples who seemed to make it work. But he always wondered if there wasn't some kind of open marriage there. How could an exciting young woman like Alex Drake be expected to tie herself to an old man? And what kind of stepfather would he be to Molly? One old enough to be her grandfather?

And, of course, all this depended on whether or not this whole future business was real.

Gene got up and walked over to the window. In the pale morning light he saw a couple of joggers. Did he look as much like a prat as those two?

Probably.

And was it worth it?

He thought about the promise he'd made to Alex.

_Bolly. It'll be all right. You go back. And when you wake up, I'll be there. By my figuring, I'll be 71 years old. And when you're well and strong, I'm gonna shag your brains out. I'm gonna live to be 100 and I'm gonna spend that time with you. And I'm gonna die in your arms – hopefully after shaggin' you one last time._

_I'll hold you to that._

_I hope so._

Gene Hunt was a man of his word. He'd be there.

But the jogging.

Maybe there was something else he could do that didn't make him look like such a nancy.

##########

DC Ben Owen had heard the expression "if looks could kill," but had never before appreciated its meaning. Now, as he stood in front of Superintendent Dennis Wilkins, Owen understood. All right, he got that Wilkins was angry over being disturbed at home. And he knew that the superintendent preferred keeping work matters at work. But considering the absolute hatred Wilkins felt for Gene Hunt, the detective thought that his superior might like hearing the news.

Wilkins's voice was icy even as fire shone in his eyes. "Do you mean to tell me," he said softly, "that you came to my home on a Saturday morning just to say that Hunt is lonely without his little tart?"

"I thought you'd like to know," Owen replied. "I mean, well, there's no reason for him to be at Drake's flat if she's not there."

"Unless, perhaps, he was drunk," Wilkins countered, "and chose to sleep it off upstairs rather than stumble home."

"Well, I suppose – "

"And if he _was_ missing her, do you think I would care?"

Owen noticed that the superintendent's voice was becoming a bit more forceful – and a bit louder. "I just thought –"

"I've nothing to do with the bastard anymore," Wilkins continued, a little more loudly, ignoring anything Owen had to say. "I'm no longer his superior. I'm no longer at Fenchurch East!" He took a step forward, forcing the DC back. "I don't care where he spends his time! I don't care that he's sad without that bitch!" Wilkins kept walking forward, backing Owen up to the wall. "I only hope that he drinks himself to death pining over her!"

Owen made another attempt to explain himself. "Don't you see, sir? If Hunt is down, you can get to him. I've heard that he's not taken her name of the office door. And that he's quit smoking and just sits at his desk and…" His mouth going dry, the DC realized that he really had nothing more to add.

Wilkins narrowed his eyes. Once again his tone was soft. "If and when I decide that I need more information about Gene Hunt, I will ask you, Constable Owen. Until that time, you will not contact me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Owen said meekly.

"And if you ever come to my home again," added Wilkins, "I will make certain that you spend your remaining years at the Met doing paperwork and fetching tea for proper detectives. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get out."

Feeling lucky to have escaped with his head still attached to his shoulders, Owen practically ran out of the house.

Wilkins watched the DC leave, tamping down the anger he felt. Idiot! Defiling the sanctity of his superior's home!

By the time he joined his wife and son for breakfast, the superintendent had calmed down – and was considering Owen's bit of news. So Hunt was sad and lonely. Men in that position were particularly vulnerable. Perhaps Wilkins should keep an eye on Hunt after all.

TBC


	4. Shadows

**A/N: My thanks to all who have been patient in reading this story and waiting for updates. And my apologies for this taking a while. Life has been interfering lately. And I blame the muses for leaving me in the lurch lately. But I think the ladies are whispering in my ears again. Hopefully the next chapter won't take quite so long.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 4**

**Shadows**

The video shop was as busy as usual on Saturday evening. Gene didn't mind too much, however, because most of the customers were in the new releases section. He was in the westerns section, very much on his own. People today were just too snooty for old-fashioned stories that meant something. Proper living, standing up for what was right, and keeping the town clean of scum. That's entertainment.

But now those films were also a kind of torture for Gene. He and Alex had watched many them together. While she had already seen some of the films, he'd introduced her to westerns she'd never heard of. Being Alex, of course, she'd turned the tables on him, making Gene watch girly films – some of which he really liked, though it was hard to admit it. He wasn't certain, however, that he'd ever forgive her for taking advantage of his enjoyment of Gary Cooper westerns to make him watch Coop's romance films, like _Meet John Doe_ and _Mr. Deeds Goes to Town_. But in the end, Gene had to concede that Cooper could play romance just as well as he did westerns.

Gene thought about those evenings as he stood staring at the container for _High Noon_. Now there was a romantic film. Marshal Will Kane is certain that his young bride has left him forever, while he stays behind to finish the job of protecting Hadleyville – and his own life. But Amy comes back.

More than ever, Gene understood how Kane must have felt. Alex had left Gene – just as he'd told her to. Would she ever come back to him? In any way?

"Alex!"

Gene was startled out of the daydream of seeing his Bolly again. He looked around for the man who had called out the name – and saw Evan White in another aisle.

A young girl's voice came from another section. "Over here!" she yelled, as a small hand reached above the shelves, clutching the box for _Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory_. The child stepped out into the open. "Can we get this one?"

White walked over to her. "Alex, we've seen that one a hundred times," he said.

"Then you should buy me a copy," young Alex replied. "I like watching Veruca getting sent down the chute with the other bad eggs."

The tone was so familiar that Gene couldn't resist looking over the shelves at the ten-year-old version of the Alex he knew. The girl gave her godfather a half smile that White returned.

"I think your favorite scenes in the movie are when the bad children are punished," White observed.

"Bad people _should_ be punished," Alex declared flatly, crossing her arms. Gene smiled at the expression of annoyance in the child's face. A shadow of her future self. "Do you really want me to put it back?" she asked White.

"No. But if we're going to fast-forward through it, we should pick up another film. Go find one to watch later. Something neither of us has seen."

"I suppose it'll have to be a _Disney_ film, won't it?"

"Preferably. See if you can find _The Shaggy Dog_."

"I thought you said one we _haven't_ seen."

"All right. But choose something that'll give us a laugh."

Alex. To Gene, she looked happy. She seemed to have recovered from the shock of losing her parents – at least as much as she could. Living with her godfather appeared to be good for her. As young Alex went in one direction, White turned around and saw Gene gazing at them.

"Mr. Hunt," he said, approaching Gene. "How are you?"

Gene moved out from the shelves. "Fine," he answered, wishing he'd left the store as soon as he realized that the two were there. He was beginning to understand why Alex was so shaken the night she saw her younger self at the cinema. "How are you and Alex doing?"

A smile lit White's face. "Well," he said. "She's doing very well." The man glanced back over his shoulder at his goddaughter.

"That's good to hear." Thinking back over the last week, Gene remembered that Alex's birthday was the Friday before. "She just turned 10, didn't she?"

"Yes." White returned his gaze to Gene. "Yes. And she's starting to think herself quite grown up. Very serious at times, just like – " He paused and looked away. "Just like her mother. Same sense of justice. But she has some of Caroline's sense of humor, too, though. Quite silly sometimes."

The man was still in love with Caroline Price. Gene always knew that. Odd that Alex herself hadn't seen it. But by the time she was capable of understanding adult emotions, Evan White's grief had eased.

White met Gene's eyes again. "Is Miss Drake here?" he asked. "Or I should say 'DCI Drake.'"

Now it was Gene's turn to glance away. "She was transferred," he replied. Then he looked back at White. "She had a chance to be with her daughter again and – " Gene stopped abruptly. He stared at the other man for a moment, frowning. A startling thought came to him, and he mentally kicked himself for never considering it before.

White's voice brought him back. "Mr. Hunt?"

"Sorry," Gene mumbled. "Uh, DCI Drake returned to her daughter. She won't be coming back."

"Oh." White nodded. "Well, I can understand that," he said softly.

_I'm sure you can_, Gene thought.

"Evan!" Young Alex called from across the store. "Come look at these!"

White smiled. "Duty calls. Good to see you again, Mr. Hunt." He hurried over to where Alex stood at the new releases.

Gene observed the two for another moment. But his mind was on another little girl. A girl with brown hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were serious while also being joyful and young.

Eyes just like Evan White's.

##########

Gene didn't bother with the videos. He left them on a shelf and hurried out of the store. Saturday evening and the streets were busy. He stopped long enough for take-away curry and headed for Fenchurch East. The officers on duty were surprised to see the Guv coming in on a weekend he wasn't scheduled. Gene simply nodded to them and went through to his office.

He set about gathering the files he needed, then began to review them as he had dinner. There was a time when he would have trusted his memory to all the important facts. Now – following Alex's example – Gene made notes. He was most worried about keeping his emotions out of his reasoning and not trying to make the information fit his suspicions. That wouldn't do. Not for this case.

A couple of hours flew by. Tired of sitting at his desk, Gene stood and began to walk through the department, mulling over the past two years, since Alex Drake had landed on his patch. One of the best coppers he'd ever known. The most incredible woman he ever would know. From the start she'd drawn him in, even as she drove him mad.

But now he understood her obsession with Caroline and Tim Price, Evan White, Arthur Layton. Especially Caroline. Alex was trying to make a connection to her mother. Save her parents' lives. And bring Layton to justice.

_Bad people _should_ be punished. _

Of course, Alex tried to stop Layton before he acted. To save people she loved.

Returning to his desk, Gene took out his bottle of scotch and poured a generous amount. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk – and thought. What would he himself do in Alex's position? How far would he go to protect someone he loved?

The answer was easy.

Looking over the files spread across his desk, Gene realized that he needed more information if he wanted to continue the investigation. Would it be worth the time and effort? What would he do with his conclusions? He wasn't certain. He only knew that he was a cop. And the truth was important.

The few items he still needed weren't available on weekends. He'd have to wait until Monday to send requests for them. He would also need to track down Dickie Nolan. The snout wasn't the best for accuracy, but he'd have to do.

Gene finished the scotch and began putting the files in order and locked them in his desk. Finally, he turned out the light and exited the station, taking his notebook with him. For the first time in over a week, he was beginning to feel like himself. Nothing like a new case to get him back into the world – even if it was old case.

##########

On Saturday night, Gene slept better than he had since the break up with Alex and her subsequent disappearance. Maybe it was having a new piece to an old puzzle that helped. He had never liked unanswered questions, especially where the job was concerned. Now he felt on the verge of truly understanding what happened in October of 1981. And maybe what happened in the years before that.

He re-wrote his notes, adding information not in the files. Information he'd learned from Alex. Every now and then, a sound or a scent would seem to catch his attention and Gene would stop and look over his shoulder, half expecting to find Alex there. The sensation reminded him of the old saying about being "there in spirit." But, of course, she wasn't there and would never be again. Not in this flat.

He missed her.

##########

As Gene entered Fenchurch East on Monday morning, he saw Viv and pulled the sergeant aside. "Skip," he said, "put in a call to get the name on my office door changed."

Viv nodded. "Right, Guv. I'll get someone here today. And Chief Jeffers wants to see you right away."

Frowning, Gene went on to CID first. It wasn't that he didn't like Jeffers. The chief had been instrumental in keeping Gene on the job after the shooting – even if that did mean a demotion. At least he knew that Jeffers was honest and looked after his people. But Gene couldn't help wondering what would get a summons to the chief's office first thing on a Monday morning.

The room was full when he got to CID. Of course there was one empty desk. Gene couldn't help himself. Every time he passed by that first desk on the right, he stole a glance. Maybe he was hoping that one day he'd find that Alex had returned.

Ray looked up as Gene came in. "Guv," he called. "Chief Jeffers wants to see you."

"So I've heard," Gene replied. "Any word on the electronics store robbery last week?"

"The manager was released from hospital. Doctors said he's lucky to be alive after being knifed. No new information about the blaggers or the goods. Got the word out about anything showing up on the street." Ray paused, looking a little uncomfortable. "I'd like to talk with you later, Guv."

Gene had an idea of what was on Ray's mind: a transfer closer to Teresa. The Manc Lion was in danger losing his entire team. "Yeah," he said. "After the DCI meeting at Central." He paused, unsure about bringing the DS into his investigation. Finally Gene decided to trust Ray with a small task. "Ray, have you heard anything about Arthur Layton being in the area?"

The sergeant was clearly surprised by the question. "No," he replied. "He wouldn't be mad enough to come back here, would he?"

"I think he might be," Gene said. "Ask your best snouts for any information, but keep it quiet. If he _is_ back, we don't want to scare him."

"Right, Guv."

**TBC…**


	5. A Matter of Time

**A/N: Much to my dismay, life has been interfering with fun lately. But I do think that I now might be able to devote more time and attention to writing, despite the upcoming holidays. I was hoping to make this chapter longer, but I might be better to go with this right now.**

**My thanks to all who read and add this story (and me) to Favorite lists and especially those who are able to review. I truly appreciate your time and effort and good wishes.**

**This chapter refers to my story "Aftershock" and the original character Clive Jeffers.**

**This is AU after Series 2. All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters in this story are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 5**

**A Matter of Time**

When it came to his superiors, Gene had little patience. Chief Superintendent Clive Jeffers was the exception. The men had learned to trust one another – due in part to Alex's intervention after the shooting.

Jeffers welcomed Gene into his office and motioned him to a chair. "Glad you're here," the chief said. "There are a few things we need to discuss before your meeting at Central."

Gene relaxed into the chair, hoping that the "few things" might actually keep him from the DCI meeting. The weekly gathering was a colossal waste of time, as far as he was concerned.

"I'm sure you're aware of the conference about crime and police procedure scheduled at the end of the week," Jeffers began. "We've been very impressed with the response from around the country. There's been quite a bit of excitement at the prospect of more communication and cooperation among police departments."

It took Gene a few seconds to recall mention of a conference. Then Alex's voice came to him in memory, talking about another useless meeting coming up, only this one would take a couple of days instead of an hour. Of course, Alex hadn't considered it useless. In fact, she'd been looking forward to it. Representatives from across Great Britain coming together to discuss modern policing techniques. _Soon coppers will be spending more time talking about crime than actually doing anything about it!_ Gene thought.

Apparently Gene's feelings about the conference were reflected in his features – or perhaps in his silence. Jeffers smiled and said, "Of course I understand that this sort of thing isn't exactly your idea of effective police work."

"That's true," Gene replied. "I think it's a waste of time and money, both of which could be used for putting more coppers on the streets, where they're needed, not tied down to paperwork and – "

Jeffers held up a hand. "I understand, Gene," he interrupted. "I understand. But this is something that DCI Drake is – was very interested in. In fact, she was instrumental in bringing the conference about. Came to me herself with some ideas for it. Always thinking about the future." The chief leaned forward. "And I think we both agree that Drake is the future of the Met."

Gene smiled. "More than you know."

"Yes." Jeffers looked away. "Most peculiar, her transfer. Seemed to happen overnight. And no clear word on where she might've gone. Deemed classified." He returned his gaze to Gene. "Although I imagine you've kept in touch with her. And know her whereabouts."

"I couldn't say," Gene replied. Anxious to change the subject, he asked, "Is there anything else, Chief?"

"Not really. I just wanted to make certain that everything was covered in CID while you're at the conference." Jeffers handed over a large envelope. "This should help in that regard."

"At the conference?" Gene exclaimed. "You want _me_ to go?"

"Naturally. With Drake's transfer, Fenchurch East needs a representative. And that falls to you. Of course, you won't be expected to lead any of the sessions. No, that was Drake's purview. But you _will_ be there."

Respect for the chief kept Gene from immediately refusing to attend. Instead, he tried to find a reason that Jeffers would accept. "Sir," he began, "I understand that you feel I should go, but with Drake's transfer, it's not a good time to be leaving CID. A new DI hasn't been assigned and – "

"That's where you're wrong," Jeffers interrupted. "Check the contents of the envelope. You'll find the conference schedule and information on your new DI."

##########

Gene stormed into CID. A bloody conference! Fucking waste of time! Drake helped set up everything and now she was gone and he was going to be stuck in meetings for two days! For over a week Gene had been missing her company. At work. At home. In bed. Now he just wanted her back so he could yell at her for a while.

He strode past the members of his team, most of them glancing up and then immediately turning away. Clearly his face gave away his mood. And at times like this, Gene was likely to take out his temper on the one nearest. However, he made it to his desk without erupting into a profanity-laced diatribe.

Throwing the envelope on the desk, Gene reached for a glass and the bottle of scotch. Then he remembered the DCI meeting. Couldn't go to that with liquor on his breath – even if he probably wouldn't be the only one.

Gene sat down. What good was it to be DCI again if he couldn't do what he was good at? Locking up scum. Keeping the streets clean. Instead it was meetings and conferences and no time for proper detective work.

Well, he'd just have to make time.

Time. Gene checked his watch. Twenty minutes to get to Central. Opening the envelope, he took a few items out and went to the outer room. The detectives looked up.

"Don't know if you're aware of it," Gene began, "but there's going to be a conference at the end of this week. All about modern policing and other shit that won't mean anything." Murmurs of agreement went around the room. "I'm expected to attend, which means I'll be occupied all day Friday and Saturday. I tried to tell the chief that we'd be short-handed here without a DI. He told me that a new DI has already been assigned."

New buzzing started among the team – except from Ray Carling. Instead, the man just stubbed out his cigarette and opened a file on his desk. "Another bird?" he asked sarcastically.

Gene went on. "No. Not a bird. Your new DI is gonna be tough on you. He's got a reputation for being a hard bastard. He'll have to be with you lot!" Approaching Ray's desk, Gene held out a new warrant card. "Congratulations, Ray. Your promotion to DI came through. Well-deserved."

It took a moment for the news to sink in. Then Ray reached out to take the card. Chris was the first to applaud. The rest of the team followed, gathering around Ray, clapping him on the back and congratulating him, and making plans for a celebration at Luigi's. Gene took the opportunity to leave for the DCI meeting, only telling Shaz where he was going.

Ray's promotion might serve to keep the man at Fenchurch East a while longer. Yet Gene knew that it was a matter of time before the new DI would be looking for a transfer.

Time. Seemed to Gene that his whole life was now a matter of time.

##########

The DCI meeting was even more boring than usual. The main topic was not the current string of burglaries and a jewelry shop robbery that ended in the owner being shot. No, most of the DCIs wanted to talk about the conference. And whenever Gene tried to direct the subject back to real police work, the conversation inevitably returned to technique and procedure.

At least this week Gene didn't have to listen to one comment after another about the absence of Alex Drake and how she was missed. She had been quite popular among the chief inspectors. Gene felt more than a flash of jealousy by their reaction to her transfer, even as he felt a certain satisfaction in knowing she was his.

Or she had been.

Alex had been gone for a little over a week. If the days dragged like this, how would the years go? Gene tried to put that thought out of his head. But memories skirted around the edges of his mind, distracting him from the discussions during the meeting.

Thinking about Alex reminded Gene of another task he needed to accomplish that day, one that he didn't want to leave to anyone else.

After the meeting, Gene took a detour to Wormwood Scrubs and searched out an old friend: Alfred Steel. Steel had been a decent copper in Manchester; but not an outstanding one. But he was a steady man, not easily flustered and had become a good sergeant. Then his wife got cancer. It took a toll on Steel, and he wasn't the same after she died. When their only son moved to London, Steel followed, eventually ending up at the Scrubs. He planned to retire in a couple of years.

Whenever Gene went to Wormwood, he made it a point to see Steel. Today in particular he needed the sergeant's help and found Steel in the front office.

"DCI Hunt!" Steel crossed the room, holding out his hand in greeting. "Good to see you!"

"And you, Alfie." Gene shook the man's hand. "How's that new grandson of yours?"

"Little Freddie's fine. Handsome lad. Image of me, right down to the bald head!" Steel laughed.

Gene joined in. "If that's the case, don't know that I'd agree with that handsome bit!"

The men chuckled more and caught up with each other's news before Steel finally asked, "What brings you here? Don't say it's to hear about my grandson."

"You're right, Alfie. I need a favor and I'd like to avoid filling out forms and such."

"No worries. Glad to help – if only because you're the only one coming in here who doesn't always say, 'What's it all about, Alfie?'" Steel sighed. "Get tired of hearing that one."

Nodding Gene said, "I need to see visitor logs from October 1981. And just keep it between us."

"Like I said. No worries."

**TBC…**


	6. An Old Friend

**A/N: Hello everyone! The holidays are upon us – but I really can't use that as a reason for my tardiness. My apologies for keeping everyone waiting. But the muses seem to be favoring me again and I hope the next chapter won't take so long to get posted.**

**In the meantime, my sincere thanks to all who read and are able to review and add to Favorites. I'm most appreciative, even if I am behind in sending individual thanks.**

**This is AU after Series 2. All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters in this story are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 6**

**An Old Friend**

The visitor logs confirmed Gene's suspicions. He made a few notes but also asked Alfie to make copies, even though he still hadn't decided what he would do with the information. Gene wasn't even sure what all of it meant – but he had a theory.

In the meantime, there was plenty to do back at Fenchurch East. Gene got into the Quattro and threw his notebook and the copies onto the passenger seat, adding those items to the ones already there. The pages Jeffers had given him, more collected at the DCI meeting. Soon he'd be needing a briefcase to carry around all the paperwork. Maybe he'd go by one of the shops and look. Black leather would be -

That thought brought Gene up short. "A briefcase?" he blurted out, suddenly angry with himself. "Gene Hunt does _not_ carry a briefcase like some soddin' lawyer!" He started the car and revved the engine. _I'm turning soft_, he thought. _Time to put a stop to that._

##########

During the next hour Gene got in contact with his three best informants and asked the same question of each: "Have you seen Arthur Layton?" The answer was always "no" and "Don't want to be around that nutter" or similar sentiments.

Gene also asked if anyone had seen Dickie Nolan around. One of them had. Colin McInnerny was the youngest and smartest of Gene's snouts – but he often had the worst judgment. Colin had come to London from Oldham and had immediately fallen in with the wrong crowd. When Colin was arrested for drug possession, Gene had recognized the Northern accent. Keeping the young man on the right path was hit-and-miss, but Gene kept trying.

"Yeah, Mr. Hunt," Colin told him. "I saw him Friday night outside a pub. Someone pointed him out to me and said not to buy him a drink. Poor old sod looked miserable."

"Sounds like him," Gene observed. "You see Dickie again, let me know. And tell him I want to see him. Understand?"

"Is this about Layton?"

"Just let me know!"

##########

Gene walked into CID, noting that the place was nearly empty. Only Poirot and Shaz were present, both looking through files. In fact, Gene could barely see the WDC behind the stack of folders on her desk. "Shaz!" he barked.

The young woman jumped and looked up. "Yes, Guv?"

"Where are Ray and Chris?"

"Out on a call. Another robbery. That flower shop two blocks over."

"And the rest of the team?"

"Lunch."

Gene looked at his watch. It was almost two o'clock. Between the meeting and scouting out informants, he'd missed his own lunch. No matter. He'd just get some ox-tail. Maybe later he'd skip Luigi's and go get a steak somewhere. No, he couldn't do that. The team would be at Luigi's celebrating Ray's promotion to DI. Gene would just have to make do with a plate of spag bol.

Going on through to his office, he deposited his papers and returned to the door.

"Shaz! In here!"

Gene sat down as Shaz entered. He left her to stand in front of his desk as he rummaged through the papers. "I have to go to a conference at the end of this week," he grumbled.

"Yeah, you told us," she replied.

"I don't want to go."

"I know."

Finding what he was searching for, Gene scowled and met the WDC's gaze. "The whole thing is about modern police procedure and making sure that scum are treated fairly and when there's a little extra time, getting them in jail!"

He watched as Shaz fought a smile, but she said nothing. So Gene went on. "I look on this as a waste of time and money. By the time all of that comes about, I'll be basking in the sun on the coast of Spain, glad to be out of it all."

Shaz nodded. "You're probably right."

"Therefore, I think it's most appropriate that someone younger, with a real future at the Met, be there." He handed over the conference agenda. "You."

"Me?" Shaz exclaimed.

"You." Gene leaned back, propping his feet on the desk.

A smile spread across Shaz's features – but then just a quickly vanished. "Guv," she said, "you're not doing this so that you don't have to go and I can just report what happened, are you?"

"If the chief wasn't expecting to see me there, that's exactly what I'd have you do. But you should go. Drake was part of arranging the conference. She – " Gene looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. But sooner or later he'd have to get used to talking about Alex. He put his feet on the floor and sat up straight, meeting Shaz's eyes. "Drake believes in you. She'd want you there. And I agree."

Shaz blushed. "Thank you, Guv," she said. "I'd love to go."

"Good! Sit near me so you can wake me up when I start to snore."

The young woman started to leave but then turned back to Gene. "Guv? You said I have a future with the Met. Do you believe that?"

"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean, Granger," he replied. "But that's not what you want to know. What is it you really want to ask?"

Taking a breath, Shaz said, "DCI Drake was going to check on me working here through the pregnancy and all. Have you done that? Did you find out anything?"

"I haven't given it much thought," Gene told her. "But I will check on it. As far as I'm concerned, you can work here for a while, but you'll be back to filing and typing, no matter what your title is. I'm not going to have you risking your life or your little one's."

Nodding, Shaz murmured her thanks and left the office. Gene sat a moment, then took out his bottle of scotch and a glass. Alex had told him that she'd worked late into her pregnancy, but he didn't like that idea. If Shaz was his wife, Gene would tell her to stay put at home. But it was clear that in the Skelton household, Shaz wore the trousers – even if they were maternity ones.

And then there was Gene's promise to Chris about looking after Shaz when Chris moved on to another station. And that last part seemed near to coming true. DCI Jones from Fenchurch West had asked about Chris just that morning.

Once again Gene was hit with the realization that his team was falling apart bit by bit. He wanted to lay that at Alex's feet. She'd changed them all during the time she'd been there. How was he supposed to get through the coming years without the people he knew best and trusted most?

##########

Ray and Chris left the flower shop after getting as much information as they could from the near-hysterical clerk. Not that Chris could blame the poor girl. She wasn't more than eighteen and had been threatened with a knife. He himself shuddered at the idea of the damage that kind of weapon could do, even though Sam Tyler had taught him some good defensive movements against a knife attack.

Chris had been a little surprised at how Ray had handled the clerk. The new inspector had done his best to calm the girl and get some information out of her. Ray had even made certain that someone the girl trusted – specifically her mother – was there before they left. Whether this new side of Ray was a result of the promotion or Teresa's influence, Chris wasn't sure. He only knew that this Ray was someone he'd like to work with – just as they were about to be split up. Ray wanted to transfer. Chris had already put in for one. It was a matter of time.

As they approached the car, Ray tossed the keys to Chris. "You want me to drive?" Chris asked in amazement.

"Yeah," Ray said. "I want to look over these notes. I think this might be the same arsehole who robbed the book shop last week. Bloody coward is choosing places where there's a young girl working. Next thing he might do is – well, you know."

Chris nodded in agreement. But Ray's observation made Chris question his own abilities as a detective. He hadn't even thought about connecting this robbery with the book shop, even though he should have. Drake had encouraged Chris, made him believe that he could make sergeant. Yet time and again, he was convinced that Shaz would make it before him.

"Ray?" Chris said.

"Yeah?"

"You still going to put in for a transfer?"

Ray closed his notebook. "Don't know," he said after a moment. "I was going to tell the Guv about it today. But with Drake gone, he might be needing me to stay, at least for a while. And with the promotion, it might be harder to get on somewhere else."

"What about Teresa and Edmund?"

This time the silence went on longer, and Chris glanced over. Ray was looking out the passenger window. Chris decided not to push for an answer, pretty sure that his friend really didn't have one.

##########

"The Guv wants you to go to the conference?"

Shaz heard a note of uncertainty in her husband's voice. They stood in the kitchen while she made tea for them – and for the Guv.

"Well, yeah," she replied. "He thinks I'll enjoy it and learn a lot."

Chris didn't say anything else. He simply added milk and sugar to his tea, spending a long time stirring.

Shaz placed a hand on his free arm. "Baby?"

"I'm glad you're going," Chris said hurriedly, smiling. "The Guv's right. All this new stuff - you're good at. You'll really get a lot out of it."

"Thank you, Baby." They stole a quick kiss before Shaz left, taking the mugs of tea with her. She knew that Chris was a little disappointed at not being sent to the conference, and she was touched that he was being so supportive. _You're really lucky to have a guy like him, Shazzer,_ she thought.

##########

At the end of the day, the team was on their way to Luigi's. But Ray stayed a moment longer, telling them not to start the party without him. As soon as everyone was gone, he called Teresa.

"You got the promotion?" she squealed. "Ray! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, luv," he said, glad that no one was there to hear him – or to see him blush.

"I suppose you're going to celebrate at Luigi's tonight."

"Yeah. But this weekend, we'll do something special. Choose where you want to go."

"All right," Teresa said. "And – " She lowered her voice and Ray knew that Edmund must be nearby. "You'll be staying, won't you? I missed you last weekend."

"I missed you, too," Ray replied softly. "But I'm not working this Saturday. I can stay over."

"Good. Enjoy yourself tonight."

"Teresa?"

"Yes?"

The words were still hard for him. He was quiet for a moment. Then he heard Teresa's voice.

"I know," she said. "I love you, too."

Teresa always understood.

She made Ray promise to call when he got home. When he hung up the phone, he sat a moment longer in the quiet. He had planned on requesting to transfer closer to where Teresa and Edmund lived. For once in his life, Ray was thinking of the future and wanted to spend it with them. Now he was thinking of staying at Fenchurch East. How was he going to tell her? Would she still understand why? And how much he owed the Guv?

##########

Dennis Wilkins leaned back in his chair, taking in the latest information DC Ben Owen had brought him. "From what I heard," said Owen, "Hunt's looking for Arthur Layton. Been after his snouts for information about Layton. And he's looking for another snout named Dickie Nolan. Don't know why he'd want Nolan. That bastard's drunk most of the time."

"So is Hunt," Wilkins sneered. "Maybe he's looking for another drinking companion since Drake left. Who is Arthur Layton?"

"Hunt and Drake brought him about two years ago for drug trafficking. And Hunt reckons Layton killed those two lawyers, the Prices."

"Why isn't the man in prison?"

"Price was his lawyer and got Layton bailed out just that morning. Layton repaid him by blowing him up." Owen snorted. "Not that the world needed another lawyer. Especially one like Tim Price."

Wilkins ignored Owen's comment. "Why would Hunt be so interested in Layton now? After two years?" the superintendent asked quietly. "Doesn't he already have enough on his plate, especially with Drake out of the picture? Still can't understand why Hunt was re-instated as DCI. He should have been knocked down to PC."

"Must have friends in high places," Owen observed. A glower from Wilkins silenced the DC.

The men sat quietly for another moment before Wilkins got to his feet. "It's nearly seven o'clock," he said. "My wife will be waiting dinner for me."

"Yes, sir." Owen got to his feet. "Anything else you need me to do?"

"Just keep me informed."

After Owen left, Wilkins made a few telephone calls, tracking down every scrap of paper on Arthur Layton. If Hunt was interested in the man's whereabouts, Wilkins would do well to find out exactly why.

##########

The next few days seemed to fly by for Gene. Maybe because a few open cases were being resolved. Maybe because he was deliberately working harder than usual. Anything to keep Alex off his mind.

The conference started on Friday morning. Gene practically dragged his feet as he approached the host hotel of the event. Shaz, on the other hand, was visibly excited. "Can't believe how many people are here!" she exclaimed.

"Get to know some of them," Gene suggested. "Never hurts to have friends further up the ladder. Go on then."

"Should I save you a seat?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be in back, waiting to make an escape."

"Guv…"

"Go now."

Shaz went off toward the ballroom while Gene went searching for Chief Jeffers. With the crowd growing in number, it was difficult to find any one person. He was about to give up when he saw the chief chatting up a brunette woman. Not wanting to interrupt, Gene was about to go in the opposite direction when Jeffers spotted him. The chief waved him over.

"Good morning, Hunt," Jeffers said as Gene approached. "I was just talking with an old friend of yours from Manchester."

A chill went down Gene's spine. _Old friend? _The woman turned to face him. A woman he knew so very well.

"Hello, Gene," she said softly.

It took him a moment to find his voice. Finally Gene replied. "Hello, Annie."

**TBC…**


	7. In Their Eyes

**A/N: All I seem to do these days is apologize for being late and negligent to everyone. And here I am again. I don't want to go into detail about what has been going on in my life for the past few weeks, but I will say that some recent events have set me back. But I do hope to be better about posting in the future.**

**My heartfelt thanks to all who have had the patience to stick with this story and have reviewed and added my stories and me to Alerts and Favorites. I am especially grateful to Katie Duggan's Niece, theHuntgoeson, and my friend Amlyn for their continual support. I truly don't know what I would do without all of you. Thank you.**

**A quick recap. This is part of story three in a trilogy that started with my stories _Aftershock _and _Repercussions_. These stories are based on the first two series of _Ashes to Ashes_ and are totally unrelated to series three.**

**So this is AU after Series 2. All things _Ashes to Ashes _are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters in this story are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 7**

**In Their Eyes**

"Hello, Gene."

"Hello, Annie."

Silence followed. Gene wondered who was more uncomfortable, Annie or him? Perhaps the conflicting emotions were evident because Chief Jeffers – not the most observant of men – seemed to feel the awkwardness of the situation.

"Well," Jeffers said. "I'll leave the two of you get re-acquainted. Pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Tyler."

"And you, Chief," Annie returned.

Jeffers nodded to Gene and walked away. And there they were. Gene and Annie had hardly spoken to each other since Sam's death. Still, Gene knew that they couldn't just turn their backs and leave. Pride made him the first to speak.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"All right," replied Annie. "You?"

"Good. All's well."

Once again they were quiet. Gene gazed at Sam's widow. She looked as lovely as ever, of course. But there was a sadness in her eyes, and Gene was hit with the realization of how deeply she and Sam loved each other – and how she'd always miss her husband. That knowledge made him suddenly self-conscious, not only for the guilt he still felt for failing Sam that last day.

Annie was astonished by the change in the man who had been her governor – yet she had trouble pinpointing the difference. Finally, as his eyes met hers, she saw it. Sadness. There had been times in the past when she saw that side of Gene, usually when the anniversary of his son's death came. But also when Sam… Maybe that was the cause now. She reminded Gene of Sam's death. It was the only explanation. In spite of her lingering feelings of anger toward Gene, Annie understood that the Guv did care about Sam and probably still missed him. Perhaps he still felt a little guilty, as well.

Annie broke the silence. "I heard you were in Manchester a few weeks ago."

A startled look went across Gene's face, then the familiar guarded expression returned. "Yeah," he said. "Personal business."

"Some of the boys said you went to Railway Arms. Had a beautiful brunette with you. Tried to pass her off as a copper."

To her surprise, Gene's eyes flashed anger and annoyance. Before he had a chance to answer, they were interrupted as a young woman approaching them.

"Guv, I – " The woman stopped and smiled. "Annie! I didn't know you were going to be here!"

"Hello, Shaz," Annie greeted. "It's good to see you."

Gene was relieved to have Shaz step in at that moment and to see that he didn't have to introduce the women. "You know each other then?" he asked.

"Yes," Shaz replied. "Chris and I were in Manchester about a few weeks ago, to see his mum. I met Annie then." She returned her attention to Annie. "Your governor sent you down here for the conference?"

"He didn't want to come," Annie said. "Thought it was a waste of time."

"Are you going to stay for tomorrow? Chris and Ray would like seeing you. We could have dinner together." Shaz turned to Gene. "All of us, at Luigi's tonight."

From the corner of his eye, Gene could see that Annie was avoiding looking at him. Seemed like as good a time as any to excuse himself. "I need to find DCI Jones," he said, stepping away. As he walked toward the conference room, Gene could almost feel the women watching him. He told himself that this was as much for Annie's sake as his own. But the truth was that he didn't like seeing the pain and loneliness in her eyes. It served to make Gene aware of the way he had changed when Alex left. There was a similar expression in his own eyes. He just hadn't put a name to it.

##########

Shaz couldn't help noticing the discomfort between Gene and Annie. Her suggestion of having dinner together backfired, reminding her of Chris's admonition of not always trying to fix things. At the same time, she had to wonder why Gene would be on the outs with his friend's widow. Maybe the Guv and Annie had never gotten along. That sometimes happened with friends and their spouses.

If Annie felt embarrassed or annoyed, she didn't show it. She just nodded toward the conference room and said, "What do you say we find a couple of chairs together? We didn't get much chance to talk in Manchester. You can tell me what kind of husband Chris is and how many girls Ray chats up and never gets."

"All right," Shaz replied. "But I think the news about Ray will surprise you."

##########

From the opening remarks of the conference, Gene surmised that Lord Scarman's report was having a profound effect on the Metropolitan Police. And what the Met did would influence the rest of the country. There was talk of how suspects were to be handled and questioned and how evidence was to be gathered. To Gene's way of thinking, it was everything for the scum of the earth and not much for the victims. And it all reminded him of the way Sam and Alex had talked of the same things, going by the procedures being discussed.

After seeing where the talk was going, Gene barely listened. He had more important things on his mind than making sure suspects had their noses wiped and their nappies changed. His thoughts went from past to present to future and back again – and most of those thoughts centered on Annie. He had more in common with her than he'd ever considered. The two of them were caught in the same dilemma. They loved and lost people who shouldn't have been there. Gene still had trouble understanding the whole "from the future" thing. It didn't make sense. It was impossible. And yet the disappearances of Sam and Alex, their knowledge of the future, was enough to make him put aside doubts and go with faith – just as Sam had told him to do.

So how much did Annie believe of it? Sam had told her everything. Gene was sure about that. But he wasn't sure of Annie's feelings about it. He only knew that she hated Gene for not helping Sam when he should have. And that was one thing he _could_ understand.

Distracted, Gene didn't realize the morning session was over until people around him stood and began wandering away. A lunch was being provided, but he certainly wasn't in the mood to chat. Maybe he could make his escape back to Fenchurch East.

He saw Shaz and Annie leaving the room, talking and smiling, along with a few other women. Made sense that all the females would find each other. There weren't many of them. They could spend their lunchtime denigrating the men they worked with – and probably their husbands and boyfriends, as well. But mostly they'd be talking about the job. After all, they were all coppers.

That thought brought Gene up short. Not long ago, he'd have reckoned a bunch of girls sitting together would be talking about clothes and gossiping about the one not there. Had he changed that much? Was it all due to Alex?

##########

Annie listened to the conversation around her table. It was amazing the difference ten years could make. When she first started, a female detective wasn't to be thought of. Now she sat with four others. Granted, they were still quite the minority on any police force and still expected to do those tasks the men disliked, such as interviewing distraught women or conveying bad news to victims' families. It seemed to Annie that most of these macho-types were cowardly about those things.

But the fact that more and more women were moving up in rank and sometimes even listened to – that was a fantastic change. It was just as Sam said it would be.

Sam.

Someone told her that the pain of losing her husband would ease and be replaced by only happy memories. Annie had been desperate to believe that. Yet when she thought of Sam and his disappearance, the pain was as sharp as the day it had happened. How could happy memories come when so many times all she could remember was Gene telling her that Sam's car had gone into the river? And the days of waiting for Sam miraculously to return or at least to have the closure of his body being found – if only so that she could see him one last time?

And then the anger would take over and even though Annie knew that that hurt only herself, she thought of her resentment toward Gene and how he had abandoned Sam – and her. And Gene wasn't there in Manchester for her to vent her fury on. He'd run off to London. Coward.

Realizing that her mind had wandered from the conversation of the others, Annie returned her focus on the present. Shaz had become the center of attention. DS Sybil Glyndon, a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman in her 40s, was staring in amazement at the young woman. "Do you mean to tell me that your DCI is letting you stay on, even though you're pregnant?" she asked.

"Yeah," Shaz replied. "He's not wanting me to go out on anything dangerous - which puts me back to typing and filing and making tea most of the time. But he's says he wants me to stay on duty as long as I can. Even made sure I came to the conference. Says I have a real future with the Met."

Like the other women, Annie was stunned by the news. "You're saying that Gene Hunt – DCI Gene S. Hunt – is suddenly all for women's rights?" she asked.

Shaz laughed. "I don't know about that, but he's been really supportive. Of course, I think he's doing it because of DCI Drake."

"Oh, yes," said DS Glyndon. "You had a female DCI for a time."

"Yeah. She was great."

"What happened?"

"She was transferred. It was really sudden." Shaz paused. "I miss her. She was my mentor."

The crowd in the dining room was thinning out, signaling an end to the lunch hour. The next presentation would begin soon; but as the other women rose to make their way back, Annie touched Shaz's arm. "I just want to ask you something," Annie murmured.

Shaz nodded. As soon as they were alone, Annie asked, "You said Drake was a DCI. Did you mean _your_ DCI?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you always worked with Gene."

"I did. Do. But he was - That is - What I mean is—" Shaz hesitated, as if searching for the right words, then sighed. "It's really a long story. You come to Luigi's tonight and you can hear the whole thing."

##########

Dennis Wilkins had seen Hunt taking a seat in preparation for the morning session, not surprised that the man chose a place toward the back of the room. In fact, Wilkins was certain that Hunt would sneak out early. The Fenchurch East DCI had no interest in progress and no respect for authority – other than his own, of course. Hunt's continual insubordination disgusted Wilkins, who could never understand why Jeffers and other higher-ups let Hunt get away with it over and over again.

Under normal circumstances, Wilkins would have taken a seat near the front of the room. Best to be seen and - more important - to display interest in the presentations and take notes. But on this day, Wilkins decided that it might be better to keep an eye on Hunt and chose a chair where he could watch. The DCI's behavior was always questionable; but lately it had become rather intriguing. Hunt was investigating something on his own. A possible crime unrelated to anything recently reported. Wilkins wondered if it was an unsolved case and made it his own business to find out. Whatever it was, Hunt would be flouting procedure and possibly breaking a few rules, if not laws. That idea made Wilkins smile.

As the afternoon session began, Wilkins kept looking for Hunt, wondering when the man would appear. But the DCI wasn't there. Idiotic of him not to come. At the same time, Wilkins couldn't help smiling. Hunt might be Jeffers's pet, but even the chief superintendent would note and dislike Hunt's absence.

Before Wilkins could gloat too long, he saw Hunt enter the room and take a seat. Fuming, the superintendent went back to his notes. However, he had difficulty concentrating on the presentation. Sooner or later, one of them would have to go – and Wilkins was determined that it would be Gene Hunt.

TBC


	8. Like Sam

**Author's note: You folks must be tired of waiting for a new chapter of this story – and of another apology from me. Yet here I am, begging forgiveness for my neglect of everyone. The truth is that I had a very rough winter with some personal things and I'm trying to recover the creative spark and discipline that I once had. And I do hope that I won't be keeping you so long for the next chapter. Believe it or not, I do have quite a bit done already.**

**So for the folks who have been faithful and patient, my heartfelt thanks. I appreciate you more than you know. Special thanks for Katie Duggan's Niece for her encouragement these last months. And to my friend Amlyn who is always wishing that the Muses be with me.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 8**

**Like Sam**

Gene sat in the afternoon session of the conference, wondering why he'd bothered coming back. Everything was changing and the world seemed to be leaving him behind. Even his team was changing.

He had managed to avoid Chief Jeffers and DCI Jones at the end of the morning session, intent on getting back to Fenchurch East and doing some real work, not just sitting on his arse and listening to some posh bastard rabbit on about the future of the Met. But as he entered the station, he could sense excitement in the air. Viv filled him in.

"Ray got a bit of information about the armed robberies goin' on this past month. He and Chris went out, tracked down the blagger – and banged up two more he was with. But there's more. You know that pawn shop you've been keeping an eye on, Guv? Turns out the blaggers were working with the owner." Viv grinned. "Ray and Chris brought him in."

Gene decided to check out CID. As he drew near, it was clear that everything was under control. Ray had a handle on the situation. Gene watched for a moment through the window and realized that he wasn't needed. At least not right then. That knowledge made him feel – uneasy. He had always been in charge. Always been a step ahead. And now Ray and Chris were ahead of _him._ Gene wasn't certain if he was proud of them or angry. Or maybe just angry with Jeffers for insisting he attend a conference of some bollocks thought up by people who would never set foot on his patch. They didn't know what it was like to be a copper in this world.

But was Gene himself the one who didn't understand? Sam knew what was coming. So did Alex. Maybe even Shaz.

As the session ended, Gene caught sight of Shaz and Annie leaving together. They'd certainly become fast friends. That morning Shaz had said something about everyone meeting at Luigi's. As much as Gene would like to go and celebrate Ray and Chris's victory, he knew that Annie would be a part of the festivities.

However, the thought of skipping out on the occasion sounded cowardly – and Gene Hunt had never been and never would be a coward. He'd go and face Annie. And see which one blinked first.

##########

As much as she liked Shaz's company, Annie was relieved to get away for a while and return to her hotel room. And even though she'd had a shower that morning, Annie took the opportunity for another. Standing under the hot water, she let the warmth soak into tired muscles. Sitting all day caused more aches and pains than any other activity. Plus there was the tension from seeing Gene again.

Annie took her time about dressing. Shaz had mentioned that the team would be at Luigi's around 6:30, so Annie still had about half an hour before she had to leave. But now she was wishing she'd refused the invitation. Why _had _she agreed to go? Who would be there? Her old team, all getting on with their lives. Even Gene Hunt seemed to have moved on. So open-minded he was willing to allow a pregnant female on his team. Annie fluctuated between wanting to know how that came about and not giving a damn about her ex-governor.

She had the number of the station. Perhaps Shaz was still there. Annie was certain she could make an excuse for not attending this little reunion. She picked up the telephone receiver, then put it back. _I'm not a coward,_ she told herself. Walking back to the bathroom, Annie began putting on make-up. Gene probably expected her not to show. And she was never one to let the Guv intimidate her.

##########

The entire CID team was in Luigi's to celebrate the arrests. Even a cursory look at the hidden inventory of the pawn shop let them know that several burglaries and robberies would be solved. Ray and Chris were the heroes of the hour.

After Annie was introduced, receiving a peck on the cheek from Chris and a handshake from Ray, she settled at one end of a long table. Gene sat at the other end. They had exchanged greetings but very little after that. Attention was on Ray and Chris, who did their usual job of entertaining everyone with tales of current and past cases. A couple of times one of them would start on a case from their days in Manchester, but a look from Gene would stop the story in midsentence. He wasn't entirely certain, but Gene thought that Annie gave him a look of gratitude at one point. Or maybe it was just relief.

So far the two of them had managed to avoid more than a minute or two together, and Gene couldn't help feeling some relief. The party was providing a buffer for them, just as the conference had during the day. Perhaps he was wrong about having to confront the animosity between them. That thought brought to mind how Alex would view the situation: _Sooner or later you'll have to talk it out. Talk with her, Gene._ He didn't know if that idea made him angry – or sad because his Bolly wasn't there to say it herself.

Annie tried to keep her attention on Ray's latest tale of adventure. But her gaze was drawn to Gene more often than she liked. With the length of the table and all the people between them, she and Gene had avoided each other. Yet she felt certain that they would have to talk sooner or later. Sam would remind her that it was no good to carry resentment. But he wasn't there. And sometimes it still hurt that he wasn't.

Despite Gene efforts to keep the topic of Manchester away, the knowledge that Annie was from there led to talk about the previous home of Gene, Ray, and Chris. "Tell us, Annie," Poirot said. "What were these three like? We hear all of Ray's bullshit. Now we want the truth."

Annie was prepared for the question. After all, the London cops had to be curious. She poured herself another glass of red wine and leaned back in her chair. "Well, I'd tell you that they were model coppers and quite humble about their daring deeds – but you know that'd be bullshit as well."

Laughter erupted around the table, with Chris turning bright red. Ray took a drag on his cigarette and blew smoke rings. "Nowt to be 'umble about," he said. "And we're always model coppers."

"Some of us more than others," Annie replied, lifting her glass to him. Laughing, everyone followed suit. Annie noticed that Gene was last. Apparently, Ray noticed, too.

"Well, Guv?" he began. "Whaddaya reckon? The team did all right today."

"You did," Gene agreed. "And you'll do all right tomorrow, while you're making the inventory of everything in the pawn shop. You and the rest of the team. I expect the list on my desk first thing Monday morning."

"That'll take all weekend!" Ray said.

"That's right, it will! Don't make me regret putting you in for that promotion, _DI_ Carling! And don't think you can hand over the paperwork to Shaz. She'll be at conference in the morning, as will I." Gene stood. Without another word, he left the restaurant.

The mood was more quiet and somber with the Guv's exit. Then Annie laughed. "Nice to know some things never change. He can still be a right bastard." The team quietly echoed her laughter.

"Yeah," Chris said. "But he's still the best governor around."

Murmurs of agreement went around the table. It still amazed Annie how Gene Hunt could inspire the kind of faith and loyalty he did. Maybe if Sam had held onto that faith…

##########

He should go home. He should get some proper rest and be ready for the last session of that bloody conference in the morning.

But Gene didn't go home. Instead, he went in search of a proper pub, where he could sit and drink and not be the Guv for a while. He ended up going to his usual place and managed to snag a table when a young couple left arm in arm. Now he sat with a glass of scotch in front of him, scowling at all who came near.

It wasn't that the presence of Annie herself really bothered him. It was just that she was a reminder of so much. Life in Manchester. His friendship with Sam. How that all went wrong and brought him to London. And Alex.

Alex.

She was always there, in his mind and in his heart. Reaching into his pocket, Gene withdrew the necklace he'd given her. The gold anchor caught the light and brought memories of lying beside Alex, candlelight glinting off the chain and pendant. And the memory of the last time they were together – when he took the necklace from her.

Did Annie go through this, too? Of course, she did, right after losing Sam. But now? How long did this last? This - bereavement? Strange word. Almost clinical. Not nearly strong enough to describe the searing pain of losing someone you love. Grief? That wasn't good enough, either. There was no word in the English language for the despair he'd felt all too often.

Gene put the necklace back in his pocket and drained the last of the scotch. Another day done. Another day closer to seeing her again? He was bound by the promise he'd made to be with her again. To be there for her. And Molly. At least he had that. Annie didn't have that hope to see Sam again.

Or did she?

##########

Colin McInnerny had been chatting up a very pretty blonde when Gene Hunt walked into the pub. To his amazement, Hunt had not taken notice of him, choosing instead to sit alone in the dark, ignoring the rest of the room. Colin maneuvered the girl around so that he had a clear view of the DCI, even as he continued flirting. Or tried to.

"Oi! Are you even listening to me?" his companion snapped.

Colin returned his attention to the girl. What was her name? Kim? He wasn't certain. "Of course, I am, luv."

"Of course." She looked over her shoulder. "You know, if he's more your type, have at it. Don't let me come between you!"

"No! I'm just –" But it was too late. She'd moved on to the group of girls she'd come in with.

That seemed to be the usual routine for Colin since he'd moved to London. Just when he thought he had it made, things would go bad. Like being caught with that joint. Hunt tried to go easy on him, but there was a price to pay. _From grass to grass_, he thought. Colin didn't like that. Even though he knew he should be grateful for the second chance, being Hunt's snout pissed him off. And he lived in constant fear of being discovered.

As he ordered another beer, Colin saw Hunt drain his glass and leave the pub. What would the DCI do if Colin said, "No more?" These days, Colin wasn't sure which was worse – the wrath of Hunt or the drug dealers. Either way, one thing he did know: he didn't like being in debt – to anyone.

##########

Luigi's was nearly empty. Only a few tables remained occupied. Most of the Fenchurch CID team has left. But at one table, Annie sat with Ray, Chris, and Shaz.

"I just can't believe it," Annie said, grinning at Ray. "You finally found a woman to put up with you? She must be a saint!"

"She is!" Chris and Shaz responded together.

Ray smiled and said softly, "Yeah, she is."

The gentleness of the reply and the soft expression in Ray's eyes told Annie all she needed to know of his feelings. A man she considered immune to Cupid's arrows was in love. "So," she went on, "tell me about her."

All the information came from Shaz and Chris. They talked over each other and finished each other's sentences. Everything about the young couple spoke of their devotion to one another. Ray said nothing about Teresa and her son Edmund, letting the others do all the talking. As though his emotions were too deep to trust to words.

"Never thought I'd see this," Annie said. "Chris married and going to be a father. Ray in love. Next you'll be telling me that the Guv has gone soft."

It was as much a question as a joke. Annie had gotten the impression from Shaz that Gene had softened, but she had trouble believing it. The reactions of her three companions, however, told her that that assumption was correct. They quieted and looked away.

"It was Alex that did it," Shaz finally said.

"Alex?"

"Drake," Ray answered.

Annie turned to Shaz. "The DCI Drake you were going to tell me about? What does she have to do with Gene?"

"Everything," Shaz replied. "From the day she walked in."

Chris chimed in. "I think you could say the Guv met his match."

"In more ways than one," Ray added, smirking at them.

Annie held up her hands. "You're saying that Gene Hunt – " For some reason, she found it difficult to say the words.

"He was in love with her," Shaz told her.

"Still is, if you ask me," Chris added. "Even when she outranked him."

"And she loved him."

"Even after he shot her!"

"Well, that was an accident."

Her head spinning from all the new information, Annie held up her hands again. "Stop! Stop right there! None of this is making sense."

Ray spoke up. "That's right. Because the Guv and Drake are both daft." He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned forward. "Drake was assigned here as a DI. She and the Guv butted heads right from the start. She's always going on about how things should be done, the way Sam did. But the Guv couldn't give her a quick rabbit punch the way he did Sam, could he?" Ray blushed. "Sorry. Don't mean to –"

"It's all right," Annie assured him, even though the mention of Sam had startled her – and made her uneasy. She tried to turn the conversation back to the present. "So Gene couldn't hit her, but he shot her instead?"

"No! That came later. I'm talking about when she first got here. He just yelled at her. And Drake would yell back at him. And all the time, we kept wishing they'd just get a room and be done with it." Shaz and Chris nodded in agreement. "Then," Ray continued, "back in November, we heard about this blag being planned. Drake had one theory. The Guv had another and suspended her when she wouldn't shut up about it and went against him. She showed up when the robbery was going on, got herself held hostage. The Guv took a shot at the woman holding Drake, but Drake got in the way, and he shot her by accident."

Shaz took up the story. "Alex nearly died. But when she was able, she backed up the Guv's story about the accident. But there were some of the higher-ups wanted him punished. So he was demoted to DI and Alex was promoted to DCI."

"He had to take orders from her," Chris said. "And they still clashed and would argue and yell. But underneath it all…"

Annie sat back, trying to absorb all this new information. Gene a DI. Taking orders from a woman. A woman he _loved_. "Wait a minute. Is Drake a tall brunette?" she asked.

"Yeah," Shaz answered. "How did you know?"

"I heard that Gene was in Manchester a few weeks ago with a beautiful woman he tried to pass off as a DCI. Of course, no one really believed him."

Ray nodded to Chris. "Told you," he said. "Going off for weekends together. They've been shagging their brains out."

"Oh, come on, Ray," Shaz shrugged. "We all figured that."

"So what happened to her?" Annie asked.

"We don't really know. The Guv came in one morning, said she was transferred and he was back to being DCI. And he's been miserable ever since."

Chris spoke up. "I still think the Spooks got her."

Annie was beginning to wish she'd never questioned the three about Gene and this Alex Drake. The whole story became more ludicrous the more she learned. "MI-5? Why would they want her? You think she's a foreign spy?"

"No. But she claimed to work with the CIA a few years ago. I reckon she's a Spook now. Maybe all along."

Ray groaned and gave Chris an exasperated look. "Don't be daft! Why would MI-5 put a spy in with us?"

"Maybe she was part of all that with Lord Scarman," Chris returned. "You can't deny she knew things no one else did."

"That is true, Ray," added Shaz.

This DI-turned-DCI-turned possible Spook Alex Drake sounded more intriguing all the time. Annie was torn between amazement and bemusement at the idea of Gene getting involved a tough, strong-minded woman. "What kind of things did she know?" Annie asked.

"Well, it was strange," Shaz replied. "It was almost like she knew things that were going to happen. Like how the Met would be changing. And that robbery Ray was talking about. She knew where it was going to happen. Said she'd studied it."

"Like she could tell the future," Chris said.

Ray took out his pack of cigarettes, then put it back in his pocket. "Sometimes she sounded like Sam – " He stopped abruptly and looked apologetically at Annie.

Annie felt the blood drain from her face. _Like Sam_. The phrase seemed to echo in her brain. It couldn't be. It couldn't be…

Could it?

TBC…


	9. Here We Are Indeed

**Author's Note: Yes, believe it or not, I'm back. The last year or so has been a very rough one for me and my writing has suffered greatly. Not only have I lost track of my muse, I've lost track of so many here, and I'm very sorry about that. I ask your forgiveness.**

**I do hope that this chapter is enjoyed. As a reminder, this story is the third part of a trilogy which began with my stories "Aftershock" and "Repercussions." So if you're new to this, you might want to read those stories first, since events there are referred to in "Face the Strange." This trilogy is AU after the second series of Ashes to Ashes. So nothing in series three and the finale is referred to here.**

**My gratitude goes out to Katie Duggan's Niece for her continual support and encouragement.**

**Face the Strange**

**Chapter 9**

**Here We Are Indeed**

_The sand was warm beneath her bare feet. That surprised her. After all the sun had set long ago. But the warmth was still there. A full moon hung in the sky, so close that Annie thought a boat ride could take her to it. The only sounds were a soft breeze in the palm trees and the gentle rush of the ebbing tide._

_Annie walked along the shoreline, wondering where he was. Whenever she felt most alone, when she longed for Sam, she found her way here. This was the place she and Sam had talked about. That one day they would retire to somewhere warm. They'd have a house on the beach and take walks in the moonlight._

"_Hello, Annie."_

_Sam stood there smiling at her. That wonderful, gentle smile that always got to her. He walked toward her. They were still for a moment. Then Annie took the last step that separated them. She put her arms around her husband and felt him pull her close. It was his touch. She could smell his cologne and feel a slight stubble of whiskers as his cheek brushed hers._

"_Sam," she whispered, almost afraid to say his name aloud._

_He stroked her hair and rocked her gently. "What's wrong?" he asked. _

"_The same thing that's always wrong. You're not with me," Annie replied. Her throat tightened. "Why aren't you with me? You said you'd stay forever."_

_She could hear the heartbreak in Sam's voice as he spoke. "I wanted to. God knows, I wanted to," he said. "We were on borrowed time. I guess I always knew it, but I kept hoping – "_

_Annie looked at him. "It's not fair!" she cried. "Everyone else is happy! Chris. Ray. They're happy."_

"_Yes," he nodded. "And there was a time they envied us and our happiness. You know, there are people who live their entire lives without knowing what we've known." _

"_I don't care! I just want you back!"_

_Sam cupped her face and brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry, Annie. I wish I could be with you. But…" His voice trailed off._

_Somehow, Annie knew what was coming. When she'd begun these journeys, the sun was high in the sky. But over the years, the sun had sunk lower. On the last trip, she and Sam sat in the waning light of the day, hardly speaking._

_And now it was night._

_Fresh tears came to her eyes. "I'm not coming back here again, am I?" she asked, searching Sam's face for the truth. "I'm not going to see you again."_

_He shook his head. "No. You aren't."_

_Annie pushed back, stepping away. "Why?" she asked, her voice a combination of heartache and anger. "Why did you have to come into my life? Why did you have to love me? And make me love you? If you knew you wouldn't stay…" A sob escaped her. "Why?"_

_Sam met her eyes, then looked away. Annie knew that expression. He was hiding something. "Why?" she repeated._

_For a moment he remained silent. Then he returned his gaze to her. "Sometimes…" he began slowly. "It's just…" His voice trailed off. She waited him out. Finally he said, "It's not about us, Annie. That we found each other at all is a miracle in itself. But that's only one of the reasons I was there. I know that now." _

_He held out his hand, but Annie took another step back. "No. You tell me what you mean."_

"_I mean there's something else. Someone else. Who needed me here."_

_Crossing her arms, Annie asked, "Who? Who would make you give up on us?"_

"_It wasn't my choice." There was no mistaking the sadness and resolution in Sam's voice. He walked over to her. A part of Annie wanted to turn away; but the longing for his touch, just one last touch, was too much. She met him, welcoming his arms around her and holding him close in return, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I'm so sorry."_

_They stood in the moonlight, holding onto each other. "Who?" Annie asked again._

"_Someone who needed our help. Everyone's help."_

_Annie raised her head. "Everyone? You? Me? No. It's Gene, isn't it? It always comes down to him, doesn't it?"_

_Sidestepping the question, Sam replied, "You need to forgive him, Annie."_

"_He's the reason you died!"_

"_No. He's not the reason." Leaning his forehead against hers, Sam continued. "You've got to move on. Gene has to move on. Forgive him, Annie."_

"_I can't," she insisted._

"_You're using your anger to hang on to me. It's time to let go."_

"_No!" Annie cried. But somewhere inside, she understood._

_Sam tilted her head back and kissed her softly. "Yes."_

Annie opened her eyes, momentarily confused by her surroundings. Of course. London. Hotel room. Conference.

Then the dream came rushing back to her.

She lay there a bit longer. Normally, she liked that dream. It was almost as though Sam was back with her. And even after waking, the sensation of Sam's arms around her remained, comforting and warm.

This time it was different.

This time - not for the first time - she wondered if it really was a dream.

The first rays of dawn dimly lit the room. Getting out of bed, Annie went to the window and opened the drapes. There wasn't much to see. The Greater Manchester Police didn't spend a lot of money on a hotel room for a Detective Sergeant, even if that DS was a woman who worked hard. This room just looked over another building and the street below.

Sometimes Annie thought about moving to London. It would mean a fresh start. Or maybe returning to university and continuing her studies in psychology. But she had chosen to remain in Manchester, clinging to a life that wasn't really there anymore.

When she was a girl, she had often heard her grandmother say that she missed her husband. Yet Annie knew that her grandfather had died years earlier, long before Annie was even born. As a child, she didn't really understand how her granny would continue to grieve for so long.

Now Annie did understand.

Oh, she would go about her daily life, and truth be told, sometimes she didn't even think about Sam. Then something would trigger a memory – a song, a whiff of cologne, a soft breeze on her cheek - and the grief would come rushing back.

And then Annie knew what her granny meant.

Fresh tears slipped down her face. Hot angry tears, mixed with those of sadness. Sam had come into her life. From the future he said. He had loved her. He had made her love him. He made her happy. She made him happy.

And then he was gone.

But where? Was he really dead? Or had he returned to that place he claimed to be from?

What did it matter? Sam was no longer there.

And he wanted Annie to move on. Whatever that meant. New home? New career? Even a new man? She wasn't certain.

But she knew where she had to start.

##########

Gene had thought that the second day of the conference couldn't be any worse than the first. He was wrong. It was simply another round of all that the Met was doing wrong and how all would change. Even though the proceedings were to end at noon and against all consideration of appeasing Jeffers and backing up Jones, Gene left mid-morning.

On the way out, he heard footsteps hurrying behind him. He knew before turning around who it would be.

Shaz caught up with him. "Guv. Are you leaving?"

"I don't need to stay longer," Gene replied. "You can go, if you want."

"Well, it's just that…" Shaz glanced back over her shoulder. "I'd like to stay. I'm getting to know some of the other women and – "

That was Shaz. Eye on the future. "Right. It'll be good for you to hang about."

"Thanks, Guv," she replied, a smile on her face. "And when I'm done here, I'll go help with the inventory from the pawn shop."

Gene shook his head. "You go home. Take care of yourself and the wee one. The men can handle it." He started to turn back around, but Shaz's voice stopped him.

"Guv? You haven't seen Annie this morning, have you?"

He looked back at Shaz. "She's not sitting with you?" he asked.

"No. Haven't seen her at all."

"Well, maybe she decided to go back to Manchester. Everything she needs to know we got yesterday."

"I suppose. Just thought she'd say goodbye." Shaz shrugged. "See you Monday, Guv."

"Right."

Exiting the building, Gene reached for a cigarette. After searching through various pockets, he remembered that he no longer carried them. Sometimes the old habits just came back. And right now, he really craved the burn of the smoke.

So Annie was gone. No more chance of confrontations and recriminations. Gene wasn't certain if he was relieved or not.

##########

The last person Superintendent Dennis Wilkins wanted to see that afternoon was Ben Owen. Not when there he was trying to get an invitation to join other superintendents for a late lunch. Never hurt to keep in with the powers that be. But as Wilkins exited the conference, there was Owen, shifting from one foot to the other and anxiously searching the crowd for the Superintendent.

Barely suppressing a growl of impatience, Wilkins moved to meet the DC. "I hope this is important. I'm on my way to lunch with the Assistant Commissioner," he growled.

Owen smirked in that way that never failed to irritate Wilkins. Glancing around first, Owen leaned in, and whispered, "I think I found a way to get to Hunt."

"And what would that be?" asked Wilkins. Owen's leads usually went nowhere; but since Wilkins had given the DC the task of looking of Gene Hunt's weaknesses, the Superintendent was willing to listen.

"One of Hunt's snouts. A kid from up north. Name's Colin McInnerny. He's young, new to Hunt. I think maybe we can use him."

For once, this lead held some promise. Men like Hunt often took advantage of their informants. Treated them badly, almost as badly as they did criminals. If there was a chance to turn one of them against DCI Gene Hunt…

"Fine," Wilkins said aloud. "Keep an eye on him. Let me know next time he sees Hunt." He was about to leave, then added, "In fact, find out all you can about young Colin. I'd want to know more about him than his own mother."

##########

Annie spent the morning wandering about London. It wasn't her first visit to the city – but she knew it would be her last.

She tried to decide what she would miss most. The museums, probably. She liked art and history. But there were just fun things to do. Annie wandered through shops and looked into windows. She found her way over to Buckingham Palace and watched the changing of the guard. She met up with two Canadian women, mother and daughter, on tour and chatted with them for a bit.

One of the things Annie wished was there was the Ferris wheel. The one Sam has told her about. The Eye of London. She wanted to go up high and look out over the city. Just once. It would almost be like flying, she thought. Sam had talked of a trip to London when they were older, to show her all the sights that he remembered. From the future.

But that would never happen. And Annie knew she had to accept it – and be absolutely certain of it - once and for all.

Her hotel room was booked for one more night and she had plans. A quick trip back there to change – and one last place to visit for the evening.

##########

Luigi's was quiet for a change. Gene had expected to see the team there, but it looked as though the day had left them ready to just go home. Not that he could blame them. Paperwork could do that.

"Signor Hunt," Luigi greeted him. "So good to see you. But where are the others?"

"Not here!" Gene shot back. "My company not pleasing enough to you?"

A little smile went across the Italian's face, letting Gene know that the grousing wasn't taken as an insult. Just a part of Gene's usual behavior that Luigi probably found reassuring. "Of course. Your usual table is available. Please." Luigi led him over to the corner, where Gene made himself at home.

"Spaghetti Bolognese?" Luigi asked. "And some nice wine?"

"Nice wine, yes," Gene answered. "But – uh – what's that dish you used to make for Drake?"

"Veal!" The restaurant owner grinned. "I'm happy to see you are wanting to try something new! Yes, Signorina Drake loved my mamma's recipe. I make it special for special customers. I will bring you some and a good wine to enjoy with it." Luigi hurried away.

Looking around the restaurant, Gene saw some of the usual customers, a few new ones. All in pairs. He was the only person sitting alone.

He should be used to it. After all, before Alex entered his life, Gene spent many nights alone. He'd put on a brave face, claiming that he wasn't lonely.

But Alex, on that first night, sussed it out. She knew another lonely soul when she met one. And together, they'd learned that that didn't have to be. They'd found companionship – and more.

And now, with her gone, he'd have to learn all over again how to be lonely.

Luigi returned with red wine, pouring a large glass for Gene. "You know what I like, Luigi," Gene said in thanks.

A feminine voice came from nearby. "Could you bring another glass, please?"

Gene looked up to see Annie walking toward him. Luigi placed a hand on the extra chair at the table, then stopped, glancing at Gene for confirmation. At Gene's nod, Luigi pulled out the chair, inviting his new customer to sit. Even so, it was now Annie who seemed hesitant. Motioning toward the chair, Gene simply said, "Please."

Annie sat down and Luigi hurried to get another glass.

"Well," said Annie. "Here we are."

"Here we are indeed," Gene replied.

TBC…


End file.
